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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27075439">what qualifies for presence</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Experi/pseuds/Experi'>Experi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drabble, Gen, Plotless, dog care! yay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 01:15:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>634</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27075439</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Experi/pseuds/Experi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The weather's warming up, sort of, in what weird way the eviscerated earth has a climate. Either way, the dog's shedding.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>what qualifies for presence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>you ever see a video of blowing out a husky’s winter coat with like, idk the word, its like the shopvac version of a hair dryer? incredible.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There are perks to being in a more proper establishment than the Shadow Border, which is largely the opportunity to manifest in an environment that </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> a fight for one’s life. As much as Lobo might enjoy tearing apart a human or anything that poses a challenge to his authority (or whatever it is), even a dog comprised mostly of hate deserves and wants some room to stretch his legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The world after Lostbelts is a strange one. Flat, endless, with no peek or smell of life. It is what it is. Lobo is unperturbed, and Hessian takes his cue on it from the wolf. (In some respects, after Shinjuku it simply follows -- that the world could go from the plains of America to concrete of Tokyo to the void of the Alien God. A progression of the world flattened out.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But one thing is noticed about it, which is that it doesn’t exactly have weather. There’s no storms, or snow, or even heat and cold. It just… is. The space is a sunny day or starless night. The weather is ambivalent more or less constantly. Featureless. Within an individual Belt, there are features, but outside? Well, that too is a shift from Chaldea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hessian decides it’s time for housekeeping, as it were. The forces of Chaldea travel about the world once more, and Lobo is beginning to look somewhat of a mess. There’s no need for the winter coat that Antarctica called for, now that they’re past the Nordic peninsula. Hessian eggs Lobo outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dog is glad for it. He stretches widely as soon as he’s fully outside and his claws can dig into the loose white dirt. Something of a bow, which Hessian takes as his cue to hop off of Lobo. Almost as if Lobo is letting him down politely, except they both know Hessian can jump off him just fine and Lobo isn’t inclined to be polite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No hard feelings. Lobo straightens up from his stretch with a huge yawn, dramatic. Hessian pats his shoulder, which is resoundly ignore in favour of Lobo shaking himself down with vigour and enthusiasm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Too late for Hessian, who’s caught in the subsequent freeing of shed dog hair. Well then. Thank you, King of Cirrumpaw. Perhaps his entire body </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> better off coated in fur like an oversized ball of lint. At least Hessian can’t sneeze. He brushes himself off despite knowing it’s a useless endeavour (more fur is let loose, though it makes no difference).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unconcerned, Lobe flops to his side with a heavy sigh, somewhere either world-weary or glad to be outside, Hessian can’t tell. Maybe both. Probably both. Lobo wriggles around, kicking up dust (that’ll be a bath later, probably… great), until he settles on his back, paws akimbo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t much look like the feared wolf king of the American wilds like this. More like any other dog… probably. Hessian can’t be sure how much he knows of other dogs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand is held out for shadow and smoke to coil within. It doesn’t take the form of his usual over-large scythes. Instead, the darkness coalesces into… a comb, more or less.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lobo’s getting patchy. May as well get to work getting all that fur off of him and into the Lostbelt wilderness. Better a bunch of dog fur tufts and dust bunnies than blank white nothingness. Maybe, in some way, it’ll prove that someone’s still trying out there, that even Lobo and someone to brush him exists in a world like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gets to work. There’s an absent tune in his head from a long-dead army as Hessian sets out brushing free the ostensible owner of their saint graph. Desolate hellscape or not, at least Lobo can appreciate the sun on his fur and a quiet afternoon.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i was going to write hessisali but instead its hessians doggy day care afternoon. the avenger agenda (avengenda ) be that way sometimes.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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